I Shall Believe
by caprijoy
Summary: My take on how episode 7x18 should play out for Mark and Lexie. *SPOILER ALERT!


**Disclaimer: I do not own Grey's. If I did Mark and Lexie would be together already and Jackson would be sent to Off the Map :)**

**My interpretation of how Thursday's episode should go for Mark and Lexie, I know it won't happen like this. I've even seen previews for next time so I KNOW it can't happen like this, all I want is some McSlexie loving3 Even when they were together for those two episodes, it wasn't enough:/**

**Sorry if some of it seems rushed, I wrote 12 pages in under two days.**

_**WARNING: SPOILER ALERT! **_**Comments about last episode: I did love the banter between all of the residents, brought together by the baby shower to decorate onesises, perfection3 I don't like Callie very much though and I used to LOVE Arizona, but they've made her less perky, which is depressing. I used to love both of them together, oh Shonda, what you do to me.**

**Anyways, who's looking forward to a McSlexie comeback!**

**And I've never posted a 6000+ words chapter, so be sure to tell me what you think? Reviews would be lovely :)**

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I Shall Believe

Many patients are under the notion that loss is taken lightly by doctors. That as medical practitioners, we know what's to be expected so, therefore, we will never be astounded, nor in grievance over the outcome. They believe we do not feel the same as they do when we lose a loved one, or even when we ourselves undergo treatment; they believe we do not fear the outcome. In a sense, to our patients, we are invincible.

This invincibility can sometimes be empowering. It succeeds in pushing us to preform at our very best, to ensure the best possible outcome for those who believe in us. As human beings we aim to please. But in situations such as these, situations where our mortality does come into play, situations in which our emotions come into play, our invincibility becomes our biggest debilitation.

If invincibility defined us earlier, what defines us now? In our hour of utmost weakness, what gives us strength? What comforts us when our invincibility breaks? What divulges us when we lay hidden under the rubble of what was left of our resolve? How do we build once the invincibility has been broken?

* * *

The ambulance siren rang in Lexie's ears as she walked out into the brisk Seattle air. Accompanied by four other surgeons, she struggled to tie the back of her yellow coverall.

"Let me help you with that," Jackson stated, coming up behind her and taking the strings from her hands.

"Thanks," She smiled meekly. It was awkward, to say the least. Her relationship with the blue-eyed surgeon wasn't what everyone thought it was. Or maybe it was. Maybe their 'relationship' just wasn't what Jackson thought it was. She had no intention of allowing their tryst to surpass the most menial of stages: lust. To Lexie, all that could possibly title them was 'sex'. She possessed only platonic feelings for him. As attractive as he was, she could never see herself getting romantically involved, not while _he_ lingered so close to her and her happiness. As far as she was concerned, she and Jackson were friends, helping each other out. However, she was almost positive Jackson didn't see it the same way.

He was too nice, too flirty with her. He'd offer her help with the smallest of things and push his assistance on her when she declined. It wasn't like this with Mar- it wasn't like this _before_. She didn't like things being done for her. Not only did she like working her way to the top, earning her recognition, but she was also a perfectionist. She believed that no matter how valiant the effort, she could preform any task better when she was allowed to preform it to her specifications, no matter how anal-retentive they may seem. _He_ had known that and _he _had given her the space and time she needed to properly conquer tasks. Pushing her when _he_ knew she needed it and stepping back when _he _knew she could handle it, even when she was unsure of herself. _He _had known a lot of things about her, things Jackson would never- could never even begin to process. Not for lack of caring, of course, Jackson cared, tremendously so. But Lexie couldn't begin to describe, yet alone enthuse the importance of all the things Ma- _he _had, that _he __**does**_ know about her.

In the midst of her thoughts, of which had begun to tread into dangerous territory, much like they had been doing lately, the ambulances had pulled into place. Lexie momentarily registered the hand, his hand, on the small of her back. To most this would seem affectionate, but to her, it just seemed misleading. He was too far into this, too invested. He was going to get hurt, because she sure as hell wasn't ready to commit to anything at the moment.

The assembled team rushed to pull a stretcher quickly, yet safely, out of the ambulance. The call had been instructive and explanatory, so the nature of the wounds and the critical state of the patient were expected, but Lexie felt her knees go weak as she saw the body lying lifeless on the stretcher and the blonde woman who accompanied it. The only thought running through her head and the only word she could manage to articulate passed her lips in a gasp, "Mark."

As they rushed the patient inside, Jackson looked timidly at Lexie's unreadable stature. She was moving, walking with the gurney as quickly as possible, but she was dazed, obviously so. He moved to comfort her, reach out, run his hand down her arm, speak her name, but Robbins beat him to it.

"Lexie," the blonde, still obviously in shock, spoke with a shaky voice as two prominent lines of blood trickled down her cheek. "Mark-" Her sentence trailed off, but immediately Lexie nodded in understanding. Falling out of her daze, she ran in the direction of the stairs.

Jackson regarded the woman he had become so fond of, as she all-too-willingly ran in search of her ex-boyfriend. Doubts flooded his mind and jealousy began to course through his veins. He closed his eyes momentarily, trying to steady himself, and the proceeded to turn towards the frazzled pediatrics attending with questions running rapidly through his head. All fell short, however, as Arizona fell to the ground.

* * *

It didn't take Lexie long to locate the frantic plastics surgeon, as she should have already guessed, the hospital gossip mill had been more efficient and timely than she could ever be. He was pacing outside an emergency room, throwing around insults and profanity at fearful nurses and interns. Derek stood stoically beside him, trying to find the right words to settle his best friend down. However, he seemed just as lost as Mark was, perhaps they all were.

It was different when doctors became patients, not harder, just different. Regular patients know the risks, they know the benefits, and they know the percentages, as do doctors. But as doctors, we've held lives in our hands; we've seen many battles won and many battles lost. For regular patients, all they know is there own story. Doctors know hundreds of stories hundreds of times over. With Callie lying in the emergency room, all of the doctors, all of her friends were paralyzed by the fear of all their own patients had brought to them.

"Mark," she said firmly, so firmly she astounded herself in the midst of her own internal anxieties.

The moment he faced her she could see the tears welling in his eyes, his anger immediately fell to vulnerability at the sight of her. His previously demanding and demeaning voice fell to a whisper, "Lexie, what's going on?"

The sight of him, the brokenness he had been hiding so strategically for the past few weeks became so suddenly apparent, Lexie felt pressure in her own eyes. She stood there, just as defeated as he was, lacking the same answers he did, feeling the same shooting pain that was stabbing him. She felt the immensity of his emotions, just through the simple sharing of a look. How could two people with so much working against them have this kind of connection?

Lexie shrugged her shoulders slightly, her eyes conveying sympathy; confirming what he already knew, she didn't have the answers he so desperately needed. She immediately opened her arms and he fell slightly into them as his own arms reached to encircle her small form. They stood there for eternity, just holding each other, taking comfort in each other's uncertainty. Derek stepped away silently with the intent of gathering more information.

No words seemed to be neither acceptable nor appropriate for this moment. Despite Lexie's vast knowledge of medical procedure and vast vocabulary, she couldn't see to form a sentence; much less a sentence that would ease his suffering. Instead she just held him tighter, hoping that, though there had definitely been changes in them as individuals during their separation, he would still be able to feel her love, as he always had been able to before, through the simplest of touches.

"We should-" Lexie began pausing slightly as she pulled away from their embrace, taking two deliberate steps back from him to maintain distance. "We should go see if there's anymore information."

Mark nodded solemnly, it seemed as though the days events just kept hitting him over and over again at different times. Lexie began to walk slowly towards the elevators, but Mark found himself unable to move. He couldn't understand why this was all happening to him, why was fate or God or whomever trying so desperately to make his life a living hell. He had lost Lexie, the only thing that had ever kept him grounded. Now he was losing his best friend, he was losing his child, he was losing his faith for a life better than this one.

Lexie seemed to know what he was thinking as she slid back beside him and lightly grasped his hand, their eyes met as she tried to convey the intensity of her impending words, "You don't know. You don't know what to expect, you don't know her condition or the baby's condition. You don't know. So don't start making up horrible scenarios in your head. Let's just go find out and then we'll deal with it from there."

Her last sentence lingered in the air and Mark felt his feet begin to move, led by the gentle tug of Lexie's hand. _We'll deal with it_. Whether inadvertently or not, Lexie had admitted that there was a '_we_', that there was a tiny inkling of hope left for them. And if there was hope for them, the pair that never seemed to work out, why couldn't there be hope for the rest of it? Why couldn't there be hope for Callie or for the baby? As they reached the elevators, fingers still intertwined, Mark had an epiphany. If Lexie Grey still had hope for him, he could still have hope, for anything.

Jackson watched the scene unfold before him as he stood a mere few feet away. His intentions, he would outwardly claim, were to successfully locate the pair, inform them of Torres' current state. Inwardly, however, his plan concluded with him whisking Lexie away for a consultation, or whatever it took to separate her from the plastics attending.

He took a few steps, planning on stopping the pair before they entered the elevator, but a voice halted him, "You're not going to stop them."

Jackson turned around to see the elder Grey standing at a near-by nurse's station. The well-built resident feigned innocence, "What do you mean?"

Meredith offered her roommate a small, sympathetic smile; "I'm under strict orders to not let you near Lexie or Mark."

Jackson raised an eyebrow, partly in annoyance, partly in intrigue, "Strict orders from who? Why?"

Meredith chuckled, "I told him it wouldn't matter if you interfered or not, but he still said it'd be best if I kept you away; for your own safety. Sloan has been known to throw a mean punch."

Jackson shook his head, "I still don't know what you're talking about."

"She's never going to be yours, at least not completely," Meredith stated, still keeping the mystery of the origin of her orders to herself. "Lexie and Mark, as dysfunctional as they may seem, he works for her, they work for her. Take it from someone who knows, you may be 'right' for her, but you'll never be her kind of 'right'. It's impossible for you to be the kind of 'right' she needs. Because he's the only 'right' for her."

Jackson watched the couple enter the elevator and attempted to catch Lexie's eye, but she stared deliberately at Mark, as though she believed he would run at any moment. "I don't get it," He whispered.

Meredith caught his meaning, he knew that he and Lexie would never be a couple, but he didn't understand why. Why would Lexie choose such an unstable relationship over one that could be composed of complete and utter happiness? Meredith racked her mind for reasons that could make an outsider understand.

"She's a Grey, which means she has an innate affinity for bad boys and tequila. It's nothing personal; it's just our nature. There's only one guy for Greys and it's always the one guy whom everyone else believes is the wrong match." Meredith tried to explain, but she found herself talking in circles, circles that only her best friends could fully decipher. She took a deep breath and added a few last rationalizations, "You'd be good for her, Jackson. You'd be really good for her. But because you are so obviously good for her, you'll never be right for her."

* * *

"What do you mean I can't see her?" Mark yelled venomously at the Neonatal attending. "I'm her best friend, I'm the father of her child, I should be in there!"

The curly haired, blonde surgeon shook her head, trying to convey as much empathy as possible, "That's why you can't be in there. You're too connected and too emotional right now-"

"Damn right I am!" He shouted again.

Lexie placed a calming hand on the side of Mark's arm, "Can you just let us know what you know?" She asked, desperate for any answers. Lexie had known Mark long enough to know that his uncertainty only fueled his imagination of terrible outcomes. It would do no good to simply sit around; he had to be involved somehow.

Dr. Fields nodded, "I don't know much at this point. She lost consciousness about ten minutes ago. The accident placed severe trauma on her heart as well as her brain. She has an epidural hematoma and she seems to have fractured her femur. Her lung collapsed and is now too close to the aorta. We won't know much else until we run some more tests. But first we're going to have to control the bleeding and take care of the immediate injuries."

Mark opened his mouth to speak, but Lexie beat him to the words, "What about the baby?" She asked with a timid sort of strength. She could feel her body becoming weaker, yet her resolve was gaining in force. She had to be strong now, for Mark. She had to be what he couldn't. That's what they had always done for each other, that's what she would continue to do.

The attending adorned a solemn expression, "We have no news. There's a heartbeat, but it's faint. We're going to have to work fast to save both Callie and that child's life. But in order to do that, I need to get back in there and you need to stay out here."

Mark and Lexie nodded simultaneously and Lucy walked through the double doors that led into the operating rooms. Mark turned slightly, pressing his back against a wall before sliding to the floor. Lexie came beside him and sat down as well. Once again she took his hand in her own. Trying to provide the comfort she knew he needed, trying to provide the comfort she knew she couldn't fully offer him.

"I need you-" Mark whispered softly, cutting his words off at the end and making his unfinished statement send shivers up her spine. "I need you tell me something."

Lexie bit her lip and stared intently at the stubble on Mark's cheek as he casted his eyes down onto their intertwined hands, "Tell you what?"

Mark smirked a bit, not a genuine smile, but something small enough to let her know that she was helping, at least a little, "Tell me anything, Lex."

Lexie sighed, wracking her brain for things that would make him feel better, things that saying aloud would make her feel better. Too many words and phrases came to mind, but her mouth wouldn't move. The annunciation wouldn't come. This wasn't the time for her to let loose all her terrible secrets. "I don't know what to say," she admitted shyly.

Mark turned and looked into her eyes, "Read me a story."

Lexie laughed lightly, causing Mark's dull, broken eyes to light up a bit, "Read you a story?"

He nodded, "I know you've got a few memorized in that huge brain of yours."

She smiled, "What do you want to hear?"

"Honestly?" Mark asked with a hint of something Lexie couldn't quite decipher, it was tragic and yet hopeful, downtrodden and yet optimistic.

She nodded; urging him to tell her what had brought on his contracting emphasis.

"Tell me about Jackson," he stated bluntly.

The breath left her diaphragm, "How did you-"

"You didn't think you could hide it from me forever, did you?" He wasn't angry, he wasn't accusatory, he wasn't much of anything. He just was. He just asked the question and let it linger in the air. Just like that.

"I wasn't hiding-" Lexie paused in the middle of her denial. She wasn't hiding it, she truly wasn't. There wasn't anything to hide. It was just sex, "It's just sex."

Mark let out a chuckle, but it came out strangled, like he had choked on his own laugh, "Just sex?"

"Just sex," Lexie confirmed with a nod.

"You and I used to be just sex, you know." Mark noted, touching on the beginnings of their relationship. But in truth, he was holding his breath. It had never been just sex for him, just as he assumed it wasn't just sex for Avery. Maybe her version of a relationship was different from his. From day one, he had risked everything to be with her. What if he had just been misinterpreting their tryst from the start?

She rolled her eyes, "You and I were never _just_ sex, Mark. That's why we didn't work."

He should have been relieved at her words, confirming what he had already known to be true. Instead, however, he felt his heart constrict. They meant more than sex, that's why they couldn't work it out. It was beautifully tragic.

Lexie shook her head slightly, "That's all my relationships are now, sex."

Mark raised an eyebrow, "That must make the whole sister thing a little awkward."

Lexie tilted her head, managing to keep direct eye contact with him, despite her fluttering heart. Even with the most menial, juvenile of comments, he could make her feel better. Her eyes must have conveyed sadness; she could tell by the look he was giving her. How had she ever doubted him? Even when his world was falling apart, when his best friend was lying on a table in the operating room just a few feet away, he was concerned for her well being.

Fear crept into Mark's gaze, the last thing he wanted was to repel Lexie again, send her away with his lack of maturity. "I'm sorry, I know you're serious. I don't want to-"

She looked away and squeezed his hand slightly, in a failed attempt to remind herself of the situation at hand, to gather her head. "You're making it incredibly difficult for me to not want to kiss you."

Mark's expression briefly reflected surprise before softening; "I'm finding it difficult to be sorry for that." He stated bluntly, "But I am, sorry. For that and so many other things."

Lexie looked up at him, the tears he had shed earlier had caused his eyes to turn a shade lighter, making the orbs that had always succeeded in capturing her heart even more intoxicating. He was a good man. He is a good man. She offered him a small smile, "Me too."

"You can continue, if you want. Explaining, I mean. I'll do my best to keep my comments to a minimum." Mark offered, staring at their interlocked hands.

She shook her head, "It's probably not the right time, there's so much other-" Lexie's voice faltered as Mark caught her gaze.

"Please." His voice was quiet, but animate; the contradictions and complexities that created the man before her stunned her. There was no explanation for the magnitude of diversities this one man could hold.

"Okay," Lexie agreed softly. She slid her body closer to him, still pressing her back against the wall. It was ironic, to express her feelings for him, she needed his support, she needed his comfort, she needed him.

Mark ran his thumb across the top of Lexie's hand, the small gesture shot electric impulses up her arm, she sighed. "You can't look at me though."

Mark turned his head briefly to meet her gaze. She met his eyes for a moment before turning her attention to the linoleum, "If I'm going to say all I have to say, you're not allowed to look at me until I'm done."

He nodded, and even though Lexie wasn't looking directly at him, she could feel him turn his gaze away from her. She took a deep breath before slightly leaning her head against his shoulder.

"I'm not sure what's wrong with me," she started.

"Nothing, you're perfect." Mark whispered softly, Lexie allowed his comment without rebuttal or chastising. She didn't acknowledge it in her speech, but her heart was ablaze.

"It's like I'm not normal, or something. Like all these people are having seemingly dysfunctional relationships, but they're managing to make them work. Make them thrive even. But we- but I had a great relationship. I was in love with my best friend."

Mark's heart clenched in his chest, '_I __**was**__ in love_.' There was so much he longed to tell her, to apologize for, to confess, but he continued to stare at the tiled floor and she continued to try to openly express her feelings with as much concealment as possible.

"That should work, right?" Lexie asked rhetorically, "Falling further into love with someone you already care tremendously about? Now all I can do is sex."

Lexie smiled slightly in amusement at her phrasing, turning slightly to see a small smirk on Mark's face as he looked down. She let out small chuckle, "It sounds horrible and perfect all at the same time. I can be intimate without being intimate. I can make love, not just sex but create an actual relationship, without it actually being love, or any sort of relationship for that matter.

"What I'm doing with Jacks- what I'm doing now, it's like I'm just going through the motions. He knows I'm emotionally crippled, I know I'm emotionally crippled, and yet we seem to keep trying to fool ourselves. Like if we pretend hard enough, I'll just forget about," Lexie paused briefly, closing her eyes before finishing her statement, "Like I _can _just forget about you."

Lexie could feel his stare boring into her side, openly defying her earlier stipulations. She didn't stop him though; she seemed to acquire a sort of inebriation from just the knowledge he was looking at her. A drunkenness that took over her senses and impaired her sound judgment.

"It was the same with Alex, except this time the other party isn't as screwed up as I am. He's in, all in. He's perfect for me, he's sweet and he cares and he's loving and he wants me. He wants me." She shook her head before letting it fall into her hands, "But all I want is you.

"You're my best friend, even when we're not together. I just have this, this debilitating urge to tell you _everything. _Which makes it impossibly difficult when everything I want to tell you is everything I can't say. And because I have this inexplicable connection to you, all anything else is, Alex, Jackson, whoever; all they ever seem to be are failed attempts to feel something, anything at all." Lexie finished with a small, silent release of air; like she had been holding her breath while she bared her soul.

She looked at his broken figure, hunched up against the wall. His world was falling apart around him; he was falling apart. It broke her heart, her heart always seemed to break for him, for his pain, for his confusion, for his helplessness, for him. "I hate seeing you broken," she whispered, unable to resist to the urge to rest her hand against his cheek.

Mark offered her a smile, a small, broken smile. Something told her it was the biggest one he could muster. "I'm always broken without you, Little Grey."

She should've been angry or upset or something, he was contorting the situation. He was taking advantage of her empathy; he was trying to maneuver his way back into her life. But she couldn't bring herself to possess a single ounce of animosity. Because the truth was, she was broken without him too.

Lexie nodded softly, brokenly. She wanted so desperately to take away his pain, his suffering. She had always been empathic towards others; she had always had a heart for the tragic and hope for the faithless. There was something deep within her soul that had always led Lexie to reach out towards others, no matter what the personal costs. But with Mark, it was different. She wouldn't just throw her personal prejudices to the wind to help him; she would sacrifice her whole self, her whole being just to ensure his happiness. She had always been selfless, but with Mark, he _**was**_ her happiness. There wasn't a way Lexie could think to describe it. When he was happy, she was enthused a million times over. When he was sad, she felt the eminence of his depression. When he was in pain, she was numb. She was so completely and pathetically and corruptibly in love with him.

For a long while Lexie just stared at him, praying that there would be a simple answer to all of this, a simple explanation as to how she could help him, as to why they couldn't be together, as to what they were supposed to do now. Lexie had unintentionally memorized many books, many articles and pictures and paintings of all sorts. She knew next to every word in the dictionary and every element on the periodic table. She knew a thousand likelihoods and a million answers to useless, trivial things. She had an unlimited source of knowledge right at her disposal, why couldn't she find the right words? Why couldn't she give him the answers he needed?

Mark offered her a small smile, he knew the battle brewing in her head, he knew the war waging in her heart, he knew her. He knew her; and despite the pain of his current situation, he was just as desperate to make her happy, as she was to make him. He loved her just as much as she loved him.

"We'll make it through this," Lexie spoke softly, keeping her eyes steady with his. "We'll all make it through this."

Mark pressed his forehead against her shoulder as Lexie dropped his hand. She felt the sleeve of her scrubs dampen as she wrapped one arm between Mark's back and the wall, letting her hand rest at the nape of his neck. She softly stroked his hair and snaked her other arm around his neck so that she held him firmly in her arms. Lexie turned her head slightly and pressed her lips to his head, "We'll make it through this."

A pair of blue eyes watched the pair, the entire scenario played out in front of Jackson Avery. He heard Lexie admit aloud what he had been to scared, or maybe scorned to admit to himself. He had saw Lexie confirm what he had been too prideful to acknowledge. He knew him and Lexie weren't epic, or at least not nearly as epic as her story with Sloan. But that didn't stop the smallest inkling of hope race through his spine. They could have been something great.

"Forget it dude," Alex stood next to him as they assessed charts at the nurse's station.

For a moment, Jackson debated as to whether he would deny knowing what Karev was talking about, but his curiosity got the best of him. Or maybe it was his arrogance that did him in; how could everyone at Seattle Grace know that him and Lexie would never work? That he couldn't even begin to the mighty Sloan? Jackson was supposed to have won that battle; he already had Lexie. So why was everyone else so convinced otherwise? "We're dating. Her and I, we're together. I have a right to be a bit defensive."

Alex shook his head, "First of all, you're not dating; you're not together. You may think you are, but you're not. Secondly, you don't have a right. You have no right or entitlement to her, you never have and you never will. That's her guy, he's her entitlement and she's his."

Jackson turned to face the slightly more seasoned surgeon, "Lexie and I-"

Karev interrupted him with the shake of his head, "You're not getting it dude, there is no Lexie and you. You can try to deny it as much as you want. You can lie to yourself, you can lie me and say that what you two have is real, but we both know it's crap. It's her and Sloan, it's always been her and Sloan, and it's always going to be her and Sloan. Sometimes they break apart, maybe for a day, maybe a week, maybe a month, maybe a year, it doesn't matter; none of it matters, least of all you. They are who they are, Sloan and Little Grey. Nothing you say or do will change that. Trust me, many before you have tried and failed. His best friend, her sister, their parents, his ex-girlfriends, her boyfriends; but it doesn't work. He'll never let her go, not fully. And she'll never let him. She makes him a better person and all that crap. He's not giving her up. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can get over it and stop looking so pathetic."

Jackson momentarily regarded the resident, before turning his attention back to the pair against the wall. He wasn't ignorant nor naïve, he knew Lexie and Mark weren't _over_, per say. But he was sure that as himself, as Jackson Avery, he could treat her better than Mark Sloan. Where as years separated the attending and the younger Grey, Avery was her age. Where as experience divided the knowledge, both common sense and logical truth, between the plastics guy and the walking encyclopedia, Avery had just as much experience and current knowledge as she did. The Avery name carried prestige and respect, while all Sloan carried was promiscuity and unclaimed offspring. "Well what does he have to offer? What can he give to her that benefits her?" He asked aloud.

Alex shook his head. He had been in this same predicament not so long ago, developing an attachment to the younger Grey. However, his commitment was underlined with the knowledge that she couldn't ever fully commit to him, just as he couldn't to her. He had never had to explain it before, it had just been _known_. How had Avery missed that? Missed the undeniable connection between Sloan and Little Grey?

Alex sighed, "Look, I'm not going to get into the mushy gushy crap with you. I'm too masculine for that. But she sees through his crap and he lets her see through his crap. He trusts her and he loves her and blah, blah, blah. You're sort of, not really, but kind of new here, so I'll try to grant you some leeway for not knowing his past. But it's worse than Mer's, sleeping around wise. Which might not mean much to you, but it's kind of a big deal around here. She grounded him. And if you knew Lexie, you'd know that that's all she ever wanted. I can't explain it, but he makes her better just because she makes him better."

Jackson tried to grasp what his friend was saying, tried to understand what lured the doe-eyed beauty back to the older man time and time again, but he couldn't seem to completely comprehend the situation. If all she wanted was someone to save, she could save him. He needed saving, he thought. Well, he could be in need of saving, if that's what it took.

Alex shook his head, trying once more to make the increasingly pathetic man in front of him understand, "He's her guy, they're Mark and Lexie, Sloan and Little Grey. There's not a method to their madness, they just are. And they always will be." At Avery's blank expression, Karev let out an exasperated sigh and close his charts, "Just forget it dude, she'll never be yours." And with that, Alex walked away.

* * *

_That's all I had time to write, and I wanted to get it posted before tomorrow! I may add some to it later, like a conclusion to the episode, but it probably won't be as long. Tell me what you think?_


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